


Bucky's Burgers

by girlygirl14534



Series: The Adventures of Amy [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Dancing, Dancing Steve Rogers, Depression, Dirty Dancing, F/M, Jewish Bucky Barnes, Mentions of Mental Illness, Multi, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Smut in ch 2, Vaginal Fingering, cooking together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26369431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlygirl14534/pseuds/girlygirl14534
Summary: Your two new favorite boys come over to your place and make burgers. Cooking together, hanging out with your neighbors, doing some things for the first time ;) and dancing together.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader
Series: The Adventures of Amy [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903927
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	1. A Good Manchego is Hard to Find

_There was one_ wine stain on your butcher block countertop that you absently ran a rag over. It was set in, a part of the table now, but that didn’t stop you from stress-cleaning it. You had been _so mad_ at Kiara when she had tipped her glass over on your new table, just three weeks after you had gotten it functional. You and Liv had staged a daring rescue mission to retrieve Miss Bertha, as you had named her, saving her from an untimely end at the jaws of the trash compactor. Bertha had previously lived in the storeroom at Liv’s work, dust-covered and forgotten about due to her broken leg and missing drawers. But Liv had seen her potential, had come home talking about her for months. When Bertha was marked for disposal during the annual spring cleaning, you recruited Michelle, Kiara and Liv’s colleague Siena to help you. 

You could now look back and laugh at the comedy of errors that was the rescue mission. Bertha was beautiful, but she had wide birthing hips that did not make for an easy getaway. You failed at sneaking her out of Liv’s office unnoticed, but thankfully nobody cared. Getting her on the subway was its own fiasco, and to top it off she wouldn’t quite fit in your building’s elevator. By some miracle of fate she fit through your front door. 

Once she was safely in your apartment, you and Liv summoned all of your DIY skills and fixed her up. Bertha May Carlisle-Bowman made her societal debut at a wine night with your close friends, which is when the wine incident occurred. You had been upset at the time, but you and Liv now agreed that it gave the countertop character. 

Your apartment was full of character. So much character that you weren't sure you’d get your deposit back. Like the dent in the ceiling in the living room. It was from popping champagne the night Kiara got accepted into her choice grad program. You hardly even noticed it anymore. Save for moments like this when you kept scrubbing, tidying, and perfecting the space for visitors.

_There were two rings_ on Miss Bertha, made by mugs, that you were just noticing. You weren't sure when those had gotten there, but they were no doubt the result of countless late-night chats with Liv where the tea had flowed freely. Yes, in the last year this table had plenty of opportunities to develop character.

_For the third time_ , you moved the bread. You had gone for potato buns. They had always been your mother’s favorite and you were partial to them as well. As a cheeseburger connoisseur you could appreciate the merits of different burger buns, but potato was your favorite when you were making them at home. You had spoken to your mother on the phone yesterday when you were on your way to the store. She told you she had read an article about the best way to cook a burger at home, and sure enough this morning she had emailed it to you. The subject read: “Best Burger EVER click now”.

You always laughed at her clickbait-y subject lines. It was a wonder that your spam filter didn’t intercept most of your mom’s emails. Then again, you had received constant messages of that nature ever since your mother had gotten email in the first place. The algorithm ruling your inbox knew by now that if the message _didn’t_ look like clickbait, then it probably wasn’t from Mama Carlisle. 

_For the fourth time_ you rearranged the onions, trying to decide whether or not to go ahead and pre-chop them. You had done some research on burgers of the 1930s and 40s and had found that the quintessential 30s-style burger had onions diced raw or grilled as rings. But it was possible that Steve and Bucky didn’t even like onions, or that they didn’t want to be beholden to the burger norms of the past. Try as you might, you couldn’t remember what Bucky had on his burger that day with Morgan. Was that only last week? _My, how quickly things have changed_ , you thought as you surveyed your toppings. You had every topping they could ever want, including lettuce and tomato, eggs and avocados, and pickles and jalapeños. 

_Five different types of cheese_ graced your countertop. You had read that the cheeseburger had been invented in the late 20s, and you couldn’t have a burger without cheese. You had your preferred cheddar, as well as the classic Kraft Singles of American Cheese, Swiss, Pepperjack, and Muenster. _Is there such a thing as too many cheese options?_ you wondered, starting to worry that you had gone a little overboard.

_For the sixth time_ you fiddled with the music volume, distracting yourself from the cheese and toppings anxiety. You needed the music loud enough that it could be heard, but not so loud as to inhibit conversation. At the same time, it needed to be loud enough to prevent any lulls in conversation from being awkward. You checked the clock on the microwave. 6:59 pm. 

_At 7 pm_ on the dot, a knock at the door interrupted your swirling thoughts. You took a big breath and opened the door to reveal two smiling men, their arms laden with reusable grocery bags. 

“ _Boys_!” you scolded. “I told you that I would take care of everything.” 

You ushered them in and disrupted your perfectly arranged ingredients, shoving them unceremoniously to the side to make room for their bags, which they set down.

“Good to see you too,” Steve said wryly, giving you a hug and a kiss. You rolled your eyes at him and greeted Bucky. 

“We figured we’d bring some food because we eat _a lot._ ”

“Oh, I remember,” you said, thinking of your first dates with each of them and how much food they had been able to put away. “So, we’ve got a lot to cook. We had better get to work. I’m sorry my kitchen is so small.” 

“Are you kidding me? You should have seen where we grew up!” Bucky said. 

“Alright Barnes, you know what you have to do,” Steve said, handing the bags of potatoes to Bucky. 

“90 years later and I’m still on potato duty,” Bucky shook his head, laughing.

“You’ve been promoted! Now you not only get to peel the potatoes, but you get to cut _and_ fry them!” Steve said in mock excitement. 

“Nonna would be so proud,” Bucky said, opening the bag and getting to work. Apparently peeling the potatoes had always been his job when his grandmother was making latkes, and all this time later peeling potatoes made him feel closer to her. According to Steve that latke recipe was to die for. He had been pestering Bucky to make it for years but Bucky was afraid of screwing it up. 

They were so easy with each other. They had so much shared history and knowledge of each other. They worked together like a well-oiled machine and you just tried not to clog up the gears. It was beautiful, seeing them together, and you hoped that one day you wouldn’t feel superfluous. You knew that they wanted you there, but you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. You wondered if it would always feel like this. 

But then you remembered the picnic, and how in-harmony the three of you had felt. They did have a history together, that was undeniable, but maybe they were looking to make some new memories. And maybe, just maybe, they wanted those memories to include you. You mulled over that thought as you and Steve shaped the patties. The boys began to reminisce about the time they stole burgers from a White Castle, animatedly recounting the story to you, making you feel like you had been there. 

“Bucky was sweet-talking the cashier while I ducked behind the counter and grabbed the burgers. I thought I was victorious until I came face to face with this huge guy, probably seven feet tall—” 

“Six,” Bucky corrected. 

Steve rolled his eyes and continued, miming the gargantuan size of the guy for dramatic effect. “ _Seven_ feet tall, five feet wide. And he says, ‘What do you think you’re doin’, kid? Nobody steals from Lester.’ So I threw Bucky’s burger at him, vaulted over the counter—”

“I _helped you scramble_ over the counter—” 

“I _vaulted_ over the counter and we ran from the restaurant, burger in hand. After about a block we figured we could find somewhere to sit and eat.” 

“But we look back and Lester is making his way towards us. Surprisingly fast, that guy. And determined. He chased us halfway to Jersey!”

“ _Now_ who’s embellishing?” Steve asked.

“Eight freakin’ blocks!” 

You had been laughing uncontrollably since Steve’s description of Lester and their bickering was the icing on the cake. 

“That is a long way to chase two kids over some burgers,” you said. 

“Right?” they both said in unison. 

“So how were the burgers, in the end? Worth all the trouble?”

“Well since Steve here decided to throw mine at Lester we only had one to share, and it was in pretty bad shape.”

“But we worked hard for it, which made it taste even better,” Steve said, ever the boy scout. 

You were glad they were sharing parts of their old life with you. They certainly had better stories than you did. Most of your adventures had taken place on the page. 

“Something tells me you got into a little bit of mischief as a kid,” Bucky said to you. “Do you have a story?” 

You thought about it for a minute. “Alright. There’s no Lester, but there’s a couple stories I can think of and you can pick which one you want to hear. Behind Door #1: A commotion breaks out at Magnolia Prep Kindergarten. Blood and teeth on the ground. Not mine. Door #2: Fire rages in the woods and the members of a cult scatter as dawn approaches. Door #3: Leading my fellow third graders in a march for our rights… to have grilled cheese at lunch.”

“Door number 2, but don’t think you’re off the hook for opening those other doors,” Bucky said. 

You told them about how you had started what you now recognized as a cult at girl scout camp. Your group dabbled in fire worship and bug sacrifice. You almost burned down the camp but your followers were loyal and tight-lipped so you got away with it. You laughed about your sacrifices to the fire goddess as your first batch of burgers and fries got to cooking. Once the food really got going the conversation tapered off as you worked together, occasionally dancing and singing along to the music, synchronously assembling your meal. You saw that maybe there was a place for you in this well-oiled machine, and before you knew it there was a mountain of food on your countertop.

“Okay, even for us this is a lot of food,” Steve said.

You shook your head at them, debating whether or not to say ‘I told you so’. It seems Bucky could read your mind as he said: “I have a feeling you’ll be telling us ‘I told you so’ a lot in this relationship.”

“Hey, your words, not mine. Go ahead and help yourselves, I’ll call in some backup for the extra food.” 


	2. Neighbors Assemble!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your neighbors assemble and help you eat the mountain of burgers you cooked. After dinner, you, Bucky and Steve take your physical relationship a lil further ;)

You sent a text to a group chat of people from your apartment building and within a few minutes the following cast of characters was at your door: 

Hot Liam 

Overly Philosophical But Still Lovely Liam (often shortened to Lovely Liam. Not as hot as Hot Liam but just as cute) 

Mr. and Mrs. Coleman: A very cute elderly couple who called you whenever they needed tech support...which was pretty much every time they attempted to get on their weekly FaceTime call with their granddaughter. Mrs. Coleman was an excellent baker, and there was always a slice of cake or a muffin for anyone that stopped by. 

Violet: Nickname: Vi. No last name. No known associates. Nobody knew her occupation. You and Liv were pretty sure she was a spy, but she was a really fun person.

P: Short for...nobody remembered (and it was way too late to ask). She was super sweet and seemed to have absolutely everything anyone could ever need to borrow.

Right before you answered the door Bucky put on a cap and Steve put on his glasses, both looking just like the days you met them. By some Clark Kent-sized miracle no one seemed to recognize them. After brief introductions your guests seemed way more interested in the food than in your new friends Steven and James. You couldn’t even blame them because the food looked really good. 

Liv came home and helped herself to one of the black bean burgers you had made for her. Before long you noticed her and Lovely Liam chatting in the corner. You cheered internally, hoping tonight would be the night that one of them would finally make a move. You weren’t holding your breath, however: they had been doing this little tango since you moved in. 

Meanwhile, Lovely Liam’s evil twin Hot Liam was talking to Violet, and with one glance she signaled for you to swoop in and save her. Steve was busy talking to the Colemans about their hatred for smartphones and you had been talking with Bucky and P about some fast food place called Jollibee they both liked, so you figured they wouldn’t miss you. You excused yourself and made your way to Liam and Violet. 

“Liam! Vi!”

“Amy! Awesome burgers!” 

“Thanks, Liam. I—” 

“You’re actually just in time. I was just telling Vi about the best methods of mining bitcoin.”

“Oh wow! That sounds really interesting, but I actually need to borrow Vi for a second. I got this new hyaluronic acid serum that works wonders for strengthening the lipid bi-layer and I _have_ to show her.” 

For once Liam was out-jargoned, and you took advantage of his moment of confusion. You dragged Vi to your bedroom to really sell the excuse.

“Thank you!” she said.

“Any time! And I actually am trying a new serum I wanted to tell you about.”

“I see. You’re glowing.” 

You went and got the bottle from the bathroom to show her. 

“When you said you were trying a new serum I thought that you were talking about your new friends.” She waggled her eyebrows seductively. 

“Umm...what?”

“I think I know a supersoldier when I see one.”

“You recognize them?”

“Of course! I thought we were all just being polite. But, come to think of it, Liam probably didn’t notice.” 

“Lovely Liam didn’t notice because he’s too busy studying philosophy to know who superheroes are—” 

“And because he was too busy looking for Liv!”

“And Hot Liam didn’t notice because he’s too busy being intimidated by their muscles to look at their faces.” You both laughed. 

“How much do you want to bet that right now he’s discussing the merits of various protein powders with one of them?” Vi asked. 

“Both of them. And he’s pushing the hemp.”

“Bold prediction. Let’s go see.” 

When you re-entered the living room you noticed that the Colemans had taken their leave. Liv and Lovely Liam were sitting on the couch together now, deep in conversation. Hot Liam had Steve and Bucky cornered in the kitchen. You and Vi got closer so that you could overhear their conversation. 

“There’s no shame in admitting you use a little protein powder, fellas. We all do it,” Liam was saying. 

You and Vi tried not to laugh as the boys assured Liam they didn’t take any supplements to achieve their muscular physiques. 

“Oh, I got it. Are you,” he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “breastmilk bros?”

That genuinely shocked the boys and you and Vi were openly laughing now. 

“Alright Liam, I think it’s past your bedtime,” Vi said, clapping him on the shoulder and guiding him to the door. 

He reluctantly went with her but pointed at Steve and Bucky. “This ain't over, fellas,” he said with all of the unearned confidence of a life-long frat boy. 

“Bye Liam!” you waved. 

“1 down,” Vi said as the door closed. “P, wanna walk me home?” Vi asked. P laughed at the request to escort Vi the 20 steps to her door but obliged, saying goodbye to everyone. You were grateful that Vi was helping you get your date back on track. 

You turned to Steve and Bucky. “I just want to be clear that I invited Hot Liam over for his ability to eat food and not for his conversational skills.” 

“Hot Liam?” Bucky asked. 

“It’s just a descriptor to distinguish him from Lovely Liam, who is currently talking to Liv over there on the couch.” 

Bucky looked at you suspiciously. 

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just I hope you call me ‘Hot Bucky’ when I’m not around.” 

“That would be a bit redundant, especially considering that you are the one and only Bucky,” you said sweetly. Even though he was pretending to be annoyed, he smiled when you pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“How was that?” you asked your favorite kiss evaluator. 

“11/10,” he winked. 

“Am I Hot Steve?”

You laughed, “You are the hottest Steve in the history of the universe. OK?” He nodded and you gave him a kiss. “Anyway, I’m sorry about all of that, but at least we’re not drowning in burgers anymore.”

“It was great to meet some of your neighbors. You seem pretty close with them,” Steve said.

“It’s nice to know your neighbors. Especially when I first moved here, making friends with them made New York feel more like home,” you said. “Alright.” You clapped your hands. “Movie time?” 

The boys nodded and you went to the sofa. You didn’t want to disturb the burgeoning couple but you had romantic plans of your own. Liv and Liam seemed startled when you approached, as if they were just noticing that everyone else had left. 

“Sorry to interrupt. Maybe you can continue this conversation in Liv’s room?”

Liam looked at Liv expectantly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She replied cheerily with, “Sounds great!” 

You knew she’d never be so bold as to suggest that on her own, but she seemed happy with the result. _Ball’s in your court, Liv._ You fought back a squeal as they went to Liv’s and settled on a disinterested nod, pretending to care more about setting up the movie than your OTP heading to Liv’s bedroom. 

When they were gone Bucky asked, “Do you always meddle this much?”

“Oh, honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” 

“Welcome to Hollywood!” the man’s voice cried out from the speakers of your television. “Everyone comes to Hollywood gotta dream—what’s your dream?” 

You snuggled in between Steve and Bucky on the couch as the opening scene of Pretty Woman played. The boys enjoyed the movie you had seen 100x and you were pleased they picked up on the “she rescues him right back” line you had quoted after the picnic the other day. The picnic. So perfect. And this moment was perfect in a different way. You were literally at home with them. Unlike the picnic, this moment didn’t feel too perfect to be real. It felt like the way things could always be, if you were lucky. 

When the movie ended you noted the time. “It’s pretty late and I don’t want to make two fine gentlemen such as yourselves travel across town at this hour. You are welcome to stay over if you would like.” 

“We’d be happy to,” Bucky said. “We actually have bags in the car outside.”

“And you just happen to have an overnight bag in the car? How convenient.” 

“Well, I was hoping I’d need it,” he smirked. 

They went to get their things and you started getting ready for bed, putting on a tank top and a short pair of sleep shorts. You considered some of the sexier pajamas you had packed from Paris, but decided against it. While you were sure Steve and Bucky could appreciate sexy clothes, something told you they would think you were sexy enough just like this. 

Once you were all ready, you intended to give each boy a goodnight kiss before climbing into bed. You gave Bucky a quick peck, but he put a hand at your waist, stopping you from going to Steve. 

“As your official kiss evaluator, I give that a 6/10,” Bucky said. 

“What?! Why?!” 

“Not enough,” he said before using the hand at your waist to pull you close and kiss you deeply. Out of habit you hadn’t put on a bra, and the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest with so little fabric separating you had your nipples hardening. When Bucky finally released you, you barely had time to catch your breath before Steve came in to get his fill. One hand stroked the side of your face while the other pressed at the small of your back, holding you close to him. Steve moaned a little and you opened your eyes to see Bucky behind Steve, his chest to Steve’s back, lips at the side of Steve’s neck. Steve’s kiss deepened and he pressed your bodies closer together. 

You felt something coming between your bodies. It was Bucky’s hands, one stroking the front of Steve’s sweatpants while the other was rubbing you through your shorts. You pushed instinctively against Bucky’s hand, your body urging him to do more than just light strokes. 

Bucky’s hands disappeared altogether, causing you and Steve to pull away from each other and look for an explanation for the loss of contact. Bucky guided you both to the bed, where you laid on your back with a man on either side of you. Steve took the opportunity to go after your neck while Bucky captured your lips, his hand once again moving to your shorts but with a lot more pressure this time. He found your clit through the fabric and began slow, lazy circles that made you want to break your vow of chastity. 

You could stay here forever, you thought. And then Bucky’s hand found the waistband of your shorts. You didn’t have any underwear on underneath. His hands began to travel downwards and you tensed involuntarily. You had never gone this far with anyone before, and while you trusted them, you were still nervous. Bucky’s hand stopped, came back to rest on your stomach, and stroked the skin there. His lips went to your neck. The sensation of both boys on your neck at the same time was heavenly. You moaned a little against your will and immediately closed your mouth, mortified. You begged yourself to just relax and enjoy it, but felt a little overwhelmed. They both stopped and looked at you. 

“Everything ok?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, I just—yeah,” you replied unconvincingly. 

Bucky just looked at you. He wasn't buying it. 

“Alright. I know you’re wondering, ‘Why won’t she put out?’” That earned you a small chuckle from Bucky but he was not gonna let you off the hook for this one. 

“Amy,” he said slowly. 

“I’m just nervous. I’ve never done any of this before.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” you said quickly. “But I’m also not ready to do everything tonight.” 

“I’m not ready for that, either. I’ve never slept with anyone before,” Steve said quietly. 

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“I’m happy to go at whatever pace you two want,” Bucky said. 

You nodded, feeling a lot better. 

“So, you want to keep going?” Bucky said. 

“Yes!”

“Tell us _exactly_ what you want us to do,” Bucky said, one hand on your thigh, eyes trained on you. 

You were kind of terrified to speak your desires out loud. You had always taken care of yourself—in every sense of the word. As far as your sexual needs went, you had an entire drawer of your nightstand devoted to that purpose. You weren’t scared of said needs, it had just been an entire lifetime since you had had someone else to help you with them. 

And now two incredibly sexy men were waiting on your direction so they could help you meet those needs. All you had to do was say it out loud. Simple in theory, but you’d rather have Twilight be the only book you could read for the rest of your life than say to Steve and Bucky that what you wanted, what you _really_ wanted, more than anything, was for them to fuck you. _Hard_. Absolutely destroy you. Fuck you so hard that their names were the only words in your vocabulary and you’d have trouble walking for at least a month. 

And yes, you wanted the other things too: cuddles and dates and I love yous—wonderful things that you hoped you could have with them someday. But when Bucky was rubbing you and both of them were kissing your neck? Oh, you would gladly let them ruin your life. You summoned all your courage and hoped they liked what you had to say. 

“Steve, I want you to kiss me desperately, like you’re trying to absolve me of all of my sins. And Bucky I want your lips at my neck—kissing and biting and making me want to sin some more. I need you _right here_ ,” you took Bucky’s hand in yours, placing his fingers over your clothed entrance, “making me moan so loud that I can’t control it.” 

The boys looked at each other and you had never been so anxious, hoping that what you were asking for was alright. 

“You heard the lady,” Bucky said to Steve, and they moved to follow your orders without question. 

They resumed devouring you. It was different this time, now that they had a clear mission in mind. Steve kissed you with such hunger that you could barely focus on your breathing. Bucky was at your neck, pulling the delicate flesh gently between his teeth. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to make you gasp against Steve’s mouth. Bucky’s hand didn’t hesitate this time. His fingers traveled under your shorts and straight to your clit, and this time there was no fabric to dull the sensation. He resumed his earlier ministrations: slow circles that had you feeling like you were going to lose your mind. His fingers dipped lower, stroking slowly between your folds. You moaned loudly into Steve’s mouth, but this time you let it loose instead of holding it back. 

Bucky’s fingers delved deeper. Two of them plunged deep and curled, making your back arch up off the mattress. Steve’s tongue was in your mouth, Bucky’s teeth and tongue were massaging your neck and Bucky had two fingers slowly stroking your walls. You practically had an out of body experience as you came, your whole body trembling. You were clenched around his fingers, spasming as he slowly extricated them. Steve was kissing you slowly now, softly, and Bucky was whispering into your neck. 

“Thank you,” he was saying between kisses. “Thank you for letting us touch you. Thank you for trusting us with your desires.” You nodded, focusing on catching your breath. You snuggled between them on the bed, not bothering to fight sleep as it came to claim you. 

“G’night boys,” you managed. They each kissed you goodnight on the cheek and you quickly fell asleep. You slept peacefully, toasty warm in between them. And then it got warmer. And warmer. And warmer. Until you awoke from how hot it was. You were starting to sweat as you groggily opened your eyes. The boys were sleeping peacefully beside you, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were being broiled alive. You fought to free yourself from under the covers, which was no small feat as Steve had an arm and a leg strewn over you, trapping you in. You wriggled out from under him and lay on top of the covers trying to cool off. 

Bucky chuckled lightly beside you. “Sorry about that. We run hot.”

“So I see.”

Bucky’s metal hand found yours. It was nice and cool. Without thinking you placed it on the side of your face and then your throat, sighing at the cool relief. “One of these days we’ll get your hand around my throat for sexier reasons,” you joked groggily. 

He laughed half-heartedly. “You mean you’re not scared?” 

“Of what? Are you about to serial kill me? It’s always when you least expect it!” 

He didn’t laugh as you expected him to. “My arm. I would understand if it freaked you out or if you didn’t want it, y’know, around your throat. I try to use my other one to touch you—”

You placed two hands over his metal one. “You don’t have anything to worry about. I like it.” 

He let out a relieved breath. “Good. Because I really, _really_ liked it when you kissed my hand the other day.” 

“Like this?” you asked, bringing his hand to your mouth and leaving kisses on the knuckles again. It was his turn to sigh contentedly. You then kissed the tip of each finger for good measure before holding his hand again. You desperately wanted to hold Bucky’s hand until you both fell back asleep but you couldn’t cool off while you were still between the two of them. 

“I think I’m gonna go sleep on the couch.” 

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll go.”

“And him?” you nodded to Steve who was now trying to cuddle you through the covers, still peacefully asleep. “It’s not a big deal,” you assured him. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that both of us would—” 

“Be like a human furnace?”

“Yeah, that. We seriously don’t mind sleeping on the floor. We’ve slept in much worse places.”

“And yet I have a perfectly comfy couch that I’ve fallen asleep on more times than I can count.” You kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry,” you commanded. “See you in the morning.”

Bucky helped you lift Steve’s limbs so you could scramble out.

“Amy?” Steve whimpered in his sleep. 

Bucky patted his arm. “It’s ok, bud.” 

Steve reached out and grabbed Bucky’s torso, pulling him across the bed and koala-ing him. Steve sighed contentedly and settled in. Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile. You leaned in and gave him a peck before leaving. When you were settled on the couch you didn't feel the least bit sleepy. It had been such a night. You were kind of glad that you were getting this space to think. You could see them fitting into your lives: cooking, hanging out with your friends, watching movies, hooking up. You could get used to this. And that scared you a little bit. But you took comfort in the fact that they were good guys who seemed to like hanging out with you too. You fell back asleep with a smile on your face. 


	3. Shake Your Honeymaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, including dancing and real talk

You were able to get a few more hours of shut-eye before waking up at an ungodly hour. The clock on the microwave said it was 7:26. Aaaargh. You had never been a morning person and yet your body had seemingly forgotten that. You sat yourself up, trying not to groan too loud. Liv was probably already on her morning run. You stretched a little, coming to terms with the fact that you would not be able to fall back asleep. 

You didn’t know what time Steve and Bucky normally woke up, but you didn’t want to chance waking them by going into your room. Your little sister Anna had introduced you to a dance fitness YouTube channel a few months ago and the hilarious instructor was a great pick-me-up on mornings where you were moving slower. You turned down the television volume and navigated to your favorite choreography. As the first notes of the song played you could already feel your mood improving. You shaked and shimmied along with the instructor and some of your anger at being awake twirled away. You were halfway through turning in a circle when you noticed the boys leaning against Bertha, watching you. You were spooked at first, then mortified. 

“Don’t stop on our account,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“On the contrary, it’s actually part of my job description.” 

Both of them looked so pleased with themselves. That would not do. “Oh, hell no. Get over here.”

“What?” Steve said, a little bit of panic in his voice. 

“You heard me. You boys are going to get over here right now and shake your asses.” 

They were shaking their heads. “Now, now, let’s not be too hasty,” Bucky bargained, hands up. 

“You’re not negotiating a hostage situation. A cute girl is asking you to dance, and you were caught spying so you have negative moral high ground. Get over here.”

“You heard the lady,” Bucky sighed as he made his way over to you. 

“I can’t do that,” Steve said, gesturing at you and the TV. 

You walked up to him. “What? This?” You rolled your hips. 

His eyes widened. “Yeah. That.”

You took one of his hands in yours, swaying back and forth. “Is Captain America… scared of dancing?” 

“Doesn’t happen to be one of my skills.”

“Aren’t you so grateful that every day is the opportunity to learn a new skill or at the very least have fun attempting it?” you said in your best Girl Scout voice. 

“God, you sound like me,” Steve said, finally letting you tug him forward onto the dance floor that was your living room rug. 

You and the boys danced for a few songs. Steve was stiff at first, but once he warmed up he wasn’t half bad. The three of you laughed a lot at the ridiculous moves and graphics on the screen, doing your best to either imitate the moves or to freestyle, making up your own moves. Bucky took the opportunity to partner dance whenever possible, grabbing one or both of you and doing a variety of tricks, turns, and lifts like he had in the town square in Italy. 

At one point he grabbed your swaying hips and pulled you into him, your back against his chest as he moved in time with you. He kept one hand on your hip and extended one to Steve who nervously took it, allowing himself to be led forward until his chest was almost touching yours. You grabbed Steve’s hips, helping him to loosen up and dance in sync with you and Bucky. You wondered if they ever went to clubs or parties. You and your friends didn’t party often, but when you did you danced all night. This morning proved that these old men just might be able to keep up with you. 

You turned off the television after a particularly hard routine which had an egregious amount of hip thrusts and booty popping, even for you. 

“Have you worked up an appetite yet?” you asked the boys after you had caught your breath. Annoyingly they hadn’t even broken a sweat. 

“Yes, but we know that you probably didn’t plan—” 

“Au contraire. Perhaps a bit of wishful thinking on my part, but I was a Girl Scout and we believe in being prepared, so—” You opened the fridge and brought out 3 cartons of eggs. “Is there anything special you guys like? It just occurred to me you might not even like eggs. I probably should’ve—”

“We love eggs. However you make ‘em, we’ll eat ‘em,” Steve said. 

You waved away their offers to help and got to cooking. You got out the ingredients and utensils you needed to make a delicious Southern breakfast. You got out your biggest pots and pans, hoping you had enough. These boys would eat you out of house and home, and you wished you could muster up some more annoyance at that fact. As you cooked, they forced open Doors 1 and 3, getting more of a glimpse into your childhood hijinks. 

You told them the story behind Door #1: “I got temporarily expelled from kindergarten for knocking a kids teeth out, literally.” 

They looked at you in shock. 

“Don’t worry, they were already loose. And he deserved it! He pushed my friend Kiara off the swingset!”

Behind door number three was the story of how you started a movement protesting for grilled cheese at lunch. You had created an alliance among all of the major factions: mud pie eaters, nose pickers, professional four square players, and swing hoggers.You had created songs and made signs, staging demonstrations at recess. And you were successful! To this day your elementary school served grilled cheese every Friday.

You laughed at the memory as you cooked, hoping they would like your food. They refused to give you any indication of how they liked things, urging you to make what you normally did. 

“Quit worryin’ Amy,” Bucky said. “If it’s any comfort, whatever you make can’t be worse than what the Germans were feeding us.” 

“Oh, so you think my cooking will taste like 1940s war prisoner rations?”

“No! I—I—” 

You laughed, letting him in on the joke. You loved seeing him squirm, and told him as much. 

You made eggs, cheese grits, turkey bacon and biscuits. It was more than you usually made at once, but you had been raised to be the perfect hostess. Liv had a fancy coffee maker that you never learned how to use, so they had to fend for themselves on that front. Steve figured it out quickly and brewed himself a strong cup, appreciating Liv’s taste in coffee and appliances.

Steve and Bucky had never had grits before but seemed to fall in love with everything you made. You just hoped they wouldn't be expecting this every time—it was a lot of work. But seeing them devour your food, showering you with praises, made all that work worth it. 

You made enough to have extra for Liv, who was back from her run much later than usual. She came and ate, twinkle in her eyes at the selection, knowing well enough not to mention in front of your guests that you only made biscuits when she begged. The biscuits were the perfect complement to the jars of strawberry and apricot preserves your grandmother sent you, and she savored every bite of the rare treat. You didn’t want to ask her about Liam in front of the boys, so instead you talked about ways to convince Kiara to finally go to a hockey game with the two of you. You and Liv were big hockey fans and would be going to a game the following week, but Kiara refused to even try it. The boys were intrigued, asking if maybe they could join you at the game. You agreed. Not only would you get to spend time with them, but you knew Kiara would never say no to a chance to hang out with the two new men in your life. 

“Would it be okay if we brought one of our friends?” Steve asked. 

“Of course!” you said. You wondered who they would bring. Would it be a superhero? You didn’t think they had Hulk-accessible seats at the arena, so they might want to think twice about bringing him. You decided to let the identity of their friend remain a mystery, which you knew would further entice Kiara to join you. Liv finished her food quickly before excusing herself to go shower. 

“Don’t forget your meds!” she said out of habit, and then froze, remembering the boys were there. 

“Thanks!” You smiled to let her know it was OK. You grabbed the bottle out of the drawer and took one. You could tell the boys didn’t know whether or not to ask and were pretending to mind their business. 

“Depression.” You answered the question they hadn’t asked. “And I take these,” you took a different bottle out of the drawer, “at night for anxiety.” You grabbed the final bottle out of the drawer. “And these are for anxiety, as needed.” 

You put the bottles away. If the three of you were going to be having sleepovers then they were going to learn about this part of you. “I’m always forgetting. In fact, I’m just realizing I forgot to take my meds last night. I do my best to remember and Liv does a good job of reminding me as well. I’m pretty open about this stuff, so if you have any questions…” After the desires you had expressed last night, telling them about your constant companion of the past ten years was nothing.

“Is there anything else we need to know? Side effects? What happens if you miss a dose?” Bucky asked. 

“Nothing happens if I miss just one. It takes a couple weeks for the medicine to get in your system and a couple weeks for it to leave, so missing one dose isn’t a big deal. The problems come when I miss like a week at a time.”

“How often does that happen?” Bucky asked with concern in his voice. 

You shifted uncomfortably. More often than you’d like to admit. “Occasionally,” you said carefully. 

“Side effects?” he pressed. You felt like you were being interrogated. 

“Side effects I’ve been really fortunate about. The only thing is that my meds increase the effects of alcohol, effectively making me the biggest lightweight in the world. I usually try to limit my drinking for that reason, but I can be persuaded to swap my water for wine on occasion.” 

“What are the best ways we can support you?” Steve asked. 

You were a little taken aback by the question. You weren’t really in the habit of letting people support you—you preferred to take care of everything yourself. 

“Be patient with me. And know that if I pull away sometimes it’s probably not personal. I tend to isolate myself when I’m having a low period.” 

It was difficult to admit, but it was the truth, and if they didn’t want to date you because of it, then it was better that you knew now. 

“I’ve got things pretty under control with medication and therapy but I still have bad days—bad weeks, even—where it’s hard for me to be on top of things at work, at home, and socially. I’ve never dated anyone before so I don’t know what it’ll mean for our relationship, sorry. But I promise I—” 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Bucky said. And that was the end of it. 

The conversation moved on to other topics, including how cuddly Steve had been that night. 

“Steve, I don’t remember you doing the whole koala thing on our first date.”

“Koala?”

“Yeah, koala,” you said, miming how he had cuddled around you. 

“He used to only do that when he was sick or very cold,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be caught dead cuddling. Thought he was a tough guy.” 

“Yeah, well, I never liked being babied,” Steve said. 

“Except for last night?” 

“Well,” Steve said, reaching out and drawing you close to him. You stood in between his legs where he sat, back to his chest. “You are exceptionally cuddly,” he said. “You’re warm,” he kissed the side of your neck. “You’re soft,” he kissed the other side of your neck. He turned you around. “You smell nice,” he kissed you softly on the lips. You smiled at him. “And our first date? I barely slept that night, I was so nervous!” 

“Thank God I’m not the only one,” Bucky said. 

You looked at him in question. 

“I was so nervous and you were so perfect and I was afraid if I so much as breathed wrong you would slip away.” 

“Waking up this morning without you wasn’t fun,” Steve said. 

You were shocked that he cared so much. 

“Next time I’ll be sure to crank the AC,” you said. 

“Whatever it takes,” Steve said. “I’ve never slept better.” 

You were flattered by his words, but they also made you nervous, and you started stress cleaning the counter again. The boys complimented your butcher block island and you told them the harrowing tale of how you had freed Bertha. You told them about the other DIY projects on your to-do list, such as the dresser you had gotten at a flea market and wanted to turn into a bench seat as soon as you could figure out how. You ended up introducing the both of them to Pinterest, and Steve was particularly intrigued by the platform. 

“This is so cool! Maybe I should get some ideas on here, start actually decorating my apartment.” 

“God, yes,” Bucky said. “Finally!” Steve shot him a look. 

“No offense, Steve but your apartment really doesn’t look like you live there. There’s no real personality. But I can start you a board with ideas and we can collaborate on it.”

“That sounds good. Are you going to make Bucky a board too? His apartment isn’t perfect!”

You laughed. “Well, I haven’t seen Bucky’s apartment so I don’t know what it needs.”

“You will, eventually. It’s just that my space is deeply personal to me and I’m not used to having people over and—”

“Now who doesn’t have anything to apologize for? I’ll see it when you’re ready.” 

Bucky seemed relieved that you could leave it at that. But now you were curious as to what his place looked like, and were excited for the day you would get to see it. The boys left not long after, each giving you a long hug and kiss, promising to text you to finalize plans for going to the hockey game next week. 

You were kind of glad when they left because then you were free to bang on Liv’s bedroom door and grill her about what had happened with Liam the night prior. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out The Fitness Marshall, which is the dance fitness channel I was referencing! Also check out my socials (girlygirl14534 on ig, amyverse on tumblr) to see inspo pics for the dresser DIY Amy wants to do! I have my own Pinterest board devoted to this series-- it's a great place to organize ideas about things like Bucky's apartment. When Amy first sees it, I'll upload some moodboards!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, head to my socials to see fun pics and sources and references!  
> @girlygirl14534 on Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr. The Tumblr specific to The Adventures of Amy is @amyverse. Enjoy!


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